The Meeting
by UnluckyAndie
Summary: Friends can come from unlikely places. Like, say, a meeting your father has with the King of the Ghost Zone. (Originally posted on Kyler Brennan, reposted to AndieZIR and UnluckyAlis's joint account, this one. Cross-posted to Ao3)


Most people had to wait their whole lives, however long or short that may be, before they met Death. Danny Fenton just had to fly 2000 miles from Illinois to Nevada. There he met Death every month. In the Death Room, at the heart of the Death Weapon Meister Academy, in the middle of Death City.

Lord Death wasn't the most subtle Shinigami.

Danny flew into the Death Room, swooping beneath the blades of a long row of guillotines that lined the path towards the centre of the room. He held his daughter close and had a small bag of toys for her on his back. He was so _late_!

Sam was in DC, trying to get more laws passed to help the good ghosts who wanted to visit the human world, and no one could babysit their daughter so last minute, so he was stuck with Rylie.

Rylie, wearing a striped dress and leggings, was a bit groggy from being woken up from her nap, but otherwise fine. The four-year-old kept trying to reach for the bag, where Danny had put her favorite plush.

"Not yet, sweetie. Daddy has to set you down first," he whispered to her.

Danny landed, his spectral tail turning into legs, as he looked around for any sign of someone, _anyone_.

The room was vast, the ground dusty and flat, and in place of a ceiling there was a cloudy blue sky. Four windows, seemingly suspended in mid-air, were the only obvious indication that this _was_ a room and not somewhere outside. Albeit, it was a room not in the earthly dimension.

Despite the size of the room there were few places for people to hide. Black crosses, hundreds of them, were stabbed into the ground, leaning at precarious angles. But they were small and many of them barely reached waist height.

In the middle of the room was a raised platform. Danny, standing at the end of the guillotine path, was at the foot of a small set of stairs. Across from him, on the other side of the platform, was a tall mirror decorated with a skull and topped with three burning candles.

From Danny's perspective, the room appeared empty. Until a sudden yelp of surprise broke the silence, followed quickly by a clatter and a thud as a young boy that had been behind the mirror fell to the ground. A skateboard rolled in the opposite direction, slipping over the platform and landing in the dirt.

Danny recognized the boy almost immediately. He was Death the Kid, just a year older than his little Rylie.

Kid scowled and pushed himself to his feet, straightening out the sleeves of his button-down shirt and smoothing the wrinkles on his dark slacks. He held his arms out in front of him, eyeing the hems of his sleeves, tugging gently on each one until they were the same length. Nodding in satisfaction, he looked up and finally noticed Danny.

"Oh, King Phantom," Kid said. "Father isn't here yet."

Danny smiled slightly, setting Rylie and the bag down on the ground. "That's alright, Kid," he said, watching as Rylie took to studying Kid instead of going to her toys.

Using her fingers she signed, "_Who that_?"

"Can we use our mouth words, Rylie?" Danny asked, smiling.

She pointed at Kid. "Who that?"

Kid jumped forward, throwing his arms out in a wide pose. "I am a Shinigami! Death the Kid, son of Death!" he shouted, standing tall, a proud glint in his eyes. He held the pose for a few seconds, then strode toward Rylie and stopped in front of her, looking down at her. Although there was barely an inch between them. "And who are you?"

"I Rylie!" she said, puffing out her chest proudly, before remembering there was something in the bag she needed. "Oops! One second," she said, running to the bag and bringing out a black bear plush. She then turned back to Kid with a grin.

Kid hummed, cradling his chin in a pudgy hand. He bent down and stared at the bear, looking at its ears, its eyes, its nose. The little legs that stuck out and the tiny, curved smile. From the bear, Kid's focus drifted to Rylie, taking her in properly.

Her hair was parted down the middle. Her dress sat straight on her shoulders, the hem falling around her knees. She held the bear in both hands, one under each arm, her little fingers curling into the bear's chest.

After a moment of staring, Kid's eyes gained a bright sparkle. "It's perfect! Totally sym-trical!"

He danced around Rylie, reaching out but not quite touching her as he admired the complete symmetry of her dress, her hair, the bear. Even the way she held herself was symmetrical.

As he fawned over Rylie's beautiful uniformity, Lord Death finally entered the room, gliding beneath the guillotines and stopping next to Danny.

"You're early," Death said. Leaning over comically, he peered around Danny at Rylie and Kid. "And who have you brought with you?"

"This is my daughter, Rylie," Danny said with a smile. "Sam was out and I had no one to watch after her, I hope you don't mind." He rubbed the back of his neck, letting out a chuckle. "I mean, Kid seems to like her."

With the children, Rylie smiled. "Want play?" she asked, pointing to the bag of toys.

There were matchbox cars and dolls with assorted clothes stuffed into the bag haphazardly. Danny had also packed juice boxes and Rylie's favorite cereal—Astr-O's—as a snack.

Kid doubted she'd want to play with him long, no other child ever did, but it was worth a shot anyways. It wasn't like he was getting any closer to mastering his skateboard before Danny and Rylie arrived.

Kid knelt down next to the bag and started sifting through its contents. If they were going to play, they'd be playing _his_ way. He picked up a doll and turned it over in his hands, nostrils flaring when he saw that one hand was open while the other was in a fist.

"Gross!" he shouted and threw the doll over his shoulder. Grabbing the next one, he gave it a similar once over, and set it down gently when he saw no flaws. Going through the bag, he picked up each toy one-by-one, examined it, and either tossed it away or added it to the slowly growing pile of approved toys. When he was done, he turned to Rylie and grabbed her shoulders.

"We can play, but only with these toys," Kid said, motioning to the approved pile. He glanced over his shoulder at the others, baring his teeth in disgust. "But not those ones. Those ones are gross."

Rylie blinked, wondering for a moment why the other toys were gross, but she shrugged. It didn't matter, so long as they got to play. "'Kay," she said, grabbing a juice box.

Danny watched, giving the two a chuckle. "We should probably go before one of us gets roped into playing as well," he said to Death with a smile.

"I agree. It's good to see Kid making friends, but we should get down to business." Beneath his mask, Death smiled.

While he had taken Kid into the city before, his son had few chances to properly interact with children his age. And when he did, it often didn't go well. Kid's fierce dedication to order often interfered with any potential friendships. But, so far, this friendship was forming nicely.

Nodding in satisfaction, Death led Danny away, leaving the children to their own devices.

"There are six right ways to order things," Kid declared, standing before the pile of toys. "Size, colour, alphabet, reverse alphabet, reverse colour, and reverse size."

"What 'bout how they feel?" Rylie asked. "Some things squishy, others not."

Kid froze. He stared at Rylie, feeling his eyes go wide, and his gaze snapped back to the pile of toys. Picking up one of the matchbox cars, he ran his fingers over it, pressing down, and feeling the hard and smooth texture. He set it down at Rylie's left foot. Taking up an extra dress for one of the dolls, he rubbed the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. Smooth, but soft, and he could bunch it up into a ball.

He put the dress down by Rylie's right foot. Lastly, he grabbed one of the dolls. The head, arms, and legs were made out of hard plastic, but the body was soft and squishy. He laid it between the car and the dress.

"Three different items, but still in order," he said, a hint of awe in his voice. "It's… it's perfect!"

He stood up and pulled Rylie into a hug, then spun her around and pointed at the line of toys. "Cars, and dolls, and doll clothes don't belong together, but now they do!"

He bent down and switched around the dress and the car. "And reverse order. That's eight, eight ways to order things, the best number!"

Rylie smiled, enjoying the fact that she made her new friend happy. That was something she always enjoyed doing—making people happy. This was _better _than playing! "Eight!" she cheered, although she didn't understand his fascination with the number eight just yet.

She picked up another toy car, placing it next to the first one, the wheels touching. She thought maybe Kid would like lines too?

Kid immediately realized what Rylie was doing and took up the next car, placing it with care next to hers.

This girl was different from the other children Kid had met. He wasn't sure if she really admired the true glory that was perfect order, but she seemed to like it anyways. None of those other children had liked order, but Rylie did. Already, she was better than them. Maybe, if there was anyone worthy of being a Shinigami's friend, it was her.

* * *

Rylie, now twelve years of age, got her father to teleport her to Death City, citing a "friend-mergency." She sat on the bench, swinging her legs slightly.

Fletcher had been getting better, slowly, but he was still afraid of her father. She needed to find a way to help him, but she didn't know where to begin helping a demon weapon, and they couldn't just move him here. He was still too injured. That stupid witch had made him a halfa, too. That wasn't a life she or her dad wished on anyone.

So she called Kid. Surely he would know what she could do.

They agreed to meet outside Deathbucks Cafe. Kid arrived at precisely noon, claiming the empty seat beside Ryle. He sat with his back straight, feet planted on the pavement, hands resting in his pockets. Symmetrical even when sitting.

"Hello, Rylie," he greeted. "What's this 'friend-mergency' you needed me for?"

Rylie took a deep breath. This was serious, Fletcher was in danger. The whole world could be in danger if this witch got her way.

"Dad and I found a weapon," she started. "Like, you know. One that should probably be at your dad's school. He was seriously hurt. Said it was a witch that hurt him."

"A witch and a demon weapon," Kid said, tensing. He knew that Rylie, as a halfa, was less vulnerable than the average human. But that also meant she found trouble more easily, or trouble found her. They had both been through enough in the past eight years to prove it.

But witches and demon weapons. That was Kid's territory, like ghosts were Rylie's. Although that would be his territory too, one day.

"Did he tell you anything about the witch?"

"A little bit. He's still a bit wary around my dad and I, plus we've got some… ghostly things to deal with regarding him," she explained. "He gave us a basic description. Said her name was Circe. What's worrying me the most is he said she's working with _ectoplasm_. The fact he's a halfa practically confirms it, too." She paused for a moment, taking a breath. "I'm not the only one worried about what a witch could be doing with ectoplasm, right?"

"That's a dangerous combination," Kid said. "Not just this witch and her experiments. But a weapon that's a halfa? He could be a danger to himself and others."

A danger to Rylie. Kid trusted Rylie to be able to take care of herself, and he didn't want to pass judgement on the boy without meeting him. But untrained weapons could be dangerous.

Looking through the window of Deathbucks Cafe, Kid watched as his own weapon partners, Liz and Patty, went about working on their probation. He only met them recently, but they were good weapons. A little rough around the edges, and getting better under his guidance. A good weapon needs a good meister.

"You said he should probably be at the academy." Kid dragged his gaze away from Liz and Patty and looked at Rylie. "Maybe he should."

"About his powers. Dad and I are training him. Well, more of my dad than me but," she paused. "His powers shouldn't be a problem if he were to come here. It's the ectoplasm that's more of an issue."

She frowned. "Ectoplasm doesn't react well to living things. It's a miracle of genetics my dad survived his accident and I survived up until now. So if he were to resonate with another student…"

Kid scooted over so he was right next to Rylie, resting on elbow on the back of the bench. He gave her an intense stare. For once, he wasn't checking to see how symmetrical her outfit was. He was appraising her.

After a moment, he leaned back and grinned. "Have you ever thought about being a meister?"


End file.
